wish.

She called during the after-school hours, when the phone is cradled between ear and shoulder and hands are elbow deep in dinner prep and homework. And she had to repeat it thrice because I didn’t hear first and then didn’t believe second. Abram has been approved for a wish from the Make A Wish Foundation. A mistake, I was certain because he’s healthy and we didn’t nominate him. But Amy, a nurse at Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital who has taken care of him? heard about him? seen his file? did. I have no idea who you are, but Amy…you are a gift to think of this blue spectacled boy. To go far beyond your job and fill out the paperwork. Such a gift. I argued with Kirsten from MAW for a sec that surely Abe doesn’t meet the requirements, isn’t terminal, is at this very moment driving me nuts with his basketball in the kitchen. But the criteria is Medically Critical and he is that on paper and someday his paper diagnosis will translate into his real life, already is in smallish ways. And so I cried hot tears on the phone. For joy at the thought of anything he wishes. For the sadness of the reality of his health. For the selflessness of a nurse named Amy and a group that seeks to bless sick kids with the incredible. And then I told Dan and the three olders who all had to think a minute about what this all means and why I’m crying and if this is something we can even accept on Abe’s behalf.

They asked yesterday if Abe would know what his wish might be when they start hanging out with our family in a couple weeks to get their finger on our pulses. I said I couldn’t imagine he’d be able to articulate something so abstract, but maybe? And then last night as Grant, Dan and Abe were headed out the door to cheer our beloved Hawks on in districts, Grant said to him, “Beaky, if you could have anything in the whole wide world, what would you want?” and without hesitation and wearing his blue and gold jersey, he replied, “Meet Steph curry and break his ankles.” Which, is much less Tonya Harding than you’d think and more a slang for making someone stumble because you dodge them so quickly.

Still chewing on the fat of all this. Have been assured over and over that accepting this wouldn’t take it away from someone else and am starting to view it for the great gift it is. No idea how this will all end up, but for now there is a packet of papers headed to 9000 with all the information we need to give Abe this incredible wish. And next week when we meet with our cardiac team and find out what the next step is, I will be scanning name tags for Amy so I can squeeze her neck, even as I try to focus on the statistics they throw at us and the timeline they lay out. Next week we will hold a printed model of our son’s heart in our hands and listen to the most dedicated, talented group of docs we know lay it all out for us. Forgive me if I drift off half way through and think of my boy in his Warriors jersey maybe meeting his hero and it makes me stupid grin. I have a habit of inappropriate emotional response in stressful situations, ask anyone. Sometimes I think I should keep more of that stuff to myself, but